


Rust and Stardust

by TrickyBunny



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Badass Ladies, Gen, Unrequited Crush, When Your Inquisitor is My Inquisitor Every Friend is the MomFriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 16:16:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11535861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrickyBunny/pseuds/TrickyBunny
Summary: In a swamp for three days. Looking for a rift that may not exist. On the lookout for demons.In short: ugh.At least it can't possibly get any worse.





	Rust and Stardust

"I'm beginning to regret not joining Sera and Varric at the tavern." Aroren Adaar grumbled as Cassandra deposited another bundle of gathered kindling into her arms.

The Seeker chuckled, but Aroren could tell by the downward twitch of her lip she was holding back another lecture. "You know we'll need you here."

A sigh. They shuffled about a few steps to look for more good firewood. "Not if we never find that damned rift we won't. What are the odds that the strange lights and whatnot are just swamp gas or something? We haven't even seen that demon the villagers claim has been patrolling."

From a tiny village north of the Fallow Mire and south of the Hinterlands, word had spread to Haven of rifts in the surrounding forest. Three had been close enough to cause immediate concern. By the time the Inquisition intervened, four villagers had been injured fending off demons and most of the livestock had scattered out of fear. The last known rift was further away, somewhere in a swamp a little more than a day's trek away. Sera refused to even be a part of the journey any longer at the mention of it and Varric took one look at the scouts struggling through the thigh-high muck and informed the rest of the group he would be heading back to keep her out of too much trouble. Vivienne had made more than one subtle threat about the state Aroren would find herself waking up in upon the mere insinuation that she would be taken anywhere near the area.

Aroren could hardly blame them. Three days of camping out on the edge of solid ground and venturing into mud and thorns and snakes had only the festered remains of mostly-sunken old houses to show for it. Setting up a campsite within the swamp was impossible, as more failed attempts than she would like to admit had proven.

Capable as she was at climbing, the trees of the area were all spindly and dead inside and shattered when she tried to find a vantage point atop one. Her last attempt ended with a sprained ankle and a broken wrist and a day in the healer’s tent with literally everyone who entered giving her a lecture on keeping out of unnecessary danger. The longest one of which was Cassandra’s, though at the time she was so loopy from the potions (making no mention of the ointments and poultices Bull convinced her would be a good idea to swallow while the doctor wasn’t looking, leaving the hapless mage to believe she simply had a low tolerance and bad reactions to potions in general) that Cassandra ended up leaving more frustrated than when she entered. 

It made the search just that much slower.

"I won't deny that such an out of the way place could be more prone to allowing rumors and superstitions dictate their lives…" Cassandra stopped to adjust the bundle of wood and swipe her hair from her forehead, "not to mention the supposed past of this place. But you know we must make certain they are safe."

Though not hot, the air was muggy and damp and unpleasant. The thrum of insects only grew louder as night encroached. Both women were loose and lightly garbed and only armed with a knife each. Aroren watched a bead of sweat pool at Cassandra's collarbone before running down and vanishing behind the off-white of her undershirt. She looked away.

"I know, of course.” A response to both statements.

The reports of the area’s past were all brief, conflicting, and shrouded in rumors and might-have-beens, but the important part from what they had gathered, was that a minor noble who once controlled the land had allowed mages free reign, though for what reason no one could quite pin down. The current residents all feared who or what might still linger in the depths of the surrounding forests.

“But we also know that being pulled through rifts drives the demons mad and is why they attack without provocation. If there were any here they would be drawn to us wouldn't you think? Any demons here seem to be lying in wait. Or hiding. If a demon would do such a thing."

"Lying in wait? Definitely. Hiding? No, never. We will find something here. We always do.” A wry smile and dry chuckle. “It will simply require more patience."

"There are other places we need to help, though. More rifts - ones that we know for certain are there - that need closing as well. If we don't find anything tomorrow we should call this a false alarm and move on. Maybe head back to Redcliffe to meet - "

As though making its response, the mark pulsed once, quietly sending a shiver up Aroren's arm. She managed to hold back a surprised gasp, but despite her attempted discretion, Cassandra noticed.

She furrowed her brows in concern. "Perhaps we should - "

The mark pulsed again, blindingly loud. The kindling exploded in her hands, the pieces nearest to the mark erupted into flames. They continued to burn, even on the damp ground where she threw them down.

Halfway through lending Aroren an arm to lean against should she need one, Cassandra straightened and turned away with a jerk. "There!" She pointed out toward the swamp, where a faint glow in the distance shuddered and shivered through the trees and shined bright against the sunset-stained water.

"It's no wonder we hadn't been able to find it," Aroren said through clenched teeth as she held her left hand between her knees as though trying to stem blood flow. Cassandra returned her attention to the young Herald, who continued before she had the chance to reply. "Look how far out it is. We'll be exhausted just getting to it."

She didn't need to add that it would also be dark. The shadows of the trees slipped over them.

No. No, it wasn't the trees' shadows. It happened to quickly to be that. The pair looked up to see a beast, bigger than a wyvern but smaller than a dragon, standing among the trees and staring back at them, eerily still. It had more horns than either were comfortable with, set in arrays all down the length of it. The water didn't ripple away from it. The trees ignored it in their spaces.

Aroren grabbed Cassandra's arm rather unconsciously. The Seeker said something, she was sure, but the sound of her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

"Why isn't it doing anything?" she managed to hiss into Cassandra's ear. It would have been hilarious to an outsider seeing a tall, gangly qunari hunched over and all but hiding behind a human, impressively muscled as she may have been. She wielded one of the sticks like a sword, ever prepared.

"I don't know."

At Cassandra's nudging, they began edging away toward camp. The beast didn't make a move for them. Only its head, filled with enough teeth to make a dracolich jealous, turned to follow their movement. Was it curious? Could demons even be curious? Would it attack as soon as they took their eyes from it? It didn't blink and Aroren's eyes were beginning to water from the effort of matching it. A tree, finally, blessedly, blocked the beast's face and it made no attempt to adjust its gaze around it.

Cassandra gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before prying Aroren’s fingers from her arm. "Run. I'll be right behind you. We'll get our gear and alert the camp."

Aroren swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded. She drew the knife from her belt, holding it so tightly her knuckles turned white. "Okay," she whispered, more to psyche herself up for the sprint back to camp than anything else. She bounced on each foot a few times before digging a heel in and pushing off as hard as she could. The ground was mostly flat, with only a few errant rocks. Spatterings of red, the Inquisition’s tents, were visible through the trees.

A knife. She could have kept her bow on her. Why didn't she do that? She cursed to herself. Maybe they weren't expecting anything so dangerous a knife wouldn't be able to handle it, but still. She wasn't any good with a knife. Even against a wild mabari or a rampaging nug she wouldn't stand a chance. A damn knife didn’t make her feel safe. A bow and forty yards made her feel safe. She had only one of those and that pissed her off.

Cassandra held true to her word and kept up with more ease than Aroren would have predicted. The only problem, if it could be called that, was that the campsite was already swept up into a panic upon their arrival.

Scouts and soldiers scurried about, gathering their weapons, securing their armor, seeing to it that everyone else was armed and armored. Blackwall stood, shield raised and sword drawn and stance solid, between the camp and the swamp, staring out into the trees. A pair of recruits took up ranks on either side of him, matching his position.

Aroren skidded to a stop in front of the tent she shared with Cassandra. "That thing didn't follow us did it?"

"We would have heard it, I'm sure, if it had." Cassandra shook her head, looking only a little less out of breath than Aroren was. She pushed into the tent and began changing into her armor.

Aroren followed to help. "Okay," she conceded. "We should have heard it, yes. But there is one standing right outside of camp blatantly ignoring that fact."

"I have noticed."

"So there's more than one?"

"It would appear so."

"Bull and Solas aren't back yet, either."

"I have also noticed that."

"Do you think something might have happened?"

Cassandra made a noise, though whether at all the questions she had no answers to or at the thought of either of them getting into trouble that had actual consequences it was unclear. She inspected her shield more thoroughly than necessary. "I am sure that we'll find out soon enough."

They emerged from the tent with Aroren still adjusting her bracer. The beast was still and silent where they had last seen it. The Iron Bull and Solas walked into camp casting curious glances toward it, but otherwise seemed remarkably unshaken.

"Well Boss, have we got some news for you." Bull's grin looked a little too shit-eating. "We found that demon the villagers have been seeing."

“As did we,” came Cassandra’s biting reply before Aroren could think of a response. 

"They appear to be a series of illusions," Solas added. "One appeared before us when the rift opened. I would assume this one appeared at the same time."

"And one showed up where we were, too. Right after the rift." Aroren blinked and tilted her head. "But why? The rift shows activity and some ghost-demons show up to scare whoever is nearby?"

Shrugging, sighing, and collective silence.

She could almost hear Solas biting back the urge to tell her that the term “ghost-demons” was incorrect and probably offensive.

“Alright, then.” She sighed and pulled her bow across her shoulder. "Great. Perfect. Well it's not like we've never jumped in to something without knowing all the facts before. May as well continue with tradition."

* * *

The creature's eyes followed the party into the swamp. They didn’t glow when the light of the moon hit them, which was perhaps more unnerving than if they did. Its head swiveled around atop its too-still body as they trudged by it. Blackwall, not ignoring their assurance that the creature was at least mostly harmless, stood prepared for something to leap from underneath it at them or at the camp or at both.

It had been Aroren who suggested he stay to protect the camp. The recruits.

"They already look up to you," she said with a grin and a pointed look at the pair who had taken up arms beside him. "I think they'd feel safer with you or Cassandra here to lead them in case whatever caused these illusions attacks the camp instead of those of us in the swamp."

She of course did not mention that she felt safer with Cassandra to lead _her_ which was why she was failing to extend the same offer to the Seeker to allow them to decide for themselves who might be best fit to stay and guard.

With mist crawling in and the sky darkening, there wasn't much time to argue. Plus, work still needed doing and there were four less people to do it no matter which way it was figured. The Herald failed to sense his unease, but he agreed anyway and she promised a way to make it up to him, also apparently failing to realize that _not_ going into that sinking deathpit would be making it up enough for anyone.

Her own unease, in the relentless eyes as well as the mud steadily crawling up her legs, would rapidly take precedent anyway.

“So, do you think maybe it was someone in the village who made those illusions?” Aroren offered speculation, needing to hear a sound other than the distant thrumming of the rift’s energy and the sucking splorch of their steps. “Maybe to keep the children away from the deepest part of the woods?”

“One would think they would have warned us if that were the case.” Cassandra shook her head. She grunted as she grabbed her leg with both hands to pull it from a patch of swamp particularly reluctant to let her go.

“If the dirty looks at Solas were any indication, they’re not too keen on magic here. Even more so than most places. I doubt a mage would be willing to hide out right in town.”

Aroren leaned against Bull's offered arm as she wrenched her foot free from a tangle of roots and weeds hiding below the water. "There's no way someone is living here, is there?" she asked, casting glances at everyone else. "That would be impossible, right?"

"Improbable, perhaps. The desperate have found stranger places to hide," Solas said. He glared in the direction of the rift. "Even with the disruption, the spirits here are... strange for the area."

"Strange how?"

He scrunched his face, apparently thinking. Searching for solid words to describe the ever-changing intricacies of the Fade was never an easy task, as Aroren was beginning to learn. Finally, "They don't belong here. But they seem to think they do. They see the remains of the homes sinking into the mud and wonder why the owners have abandoned them."

"Does that sound creepy to anyone besides me?" Bull's grip on his ax shifted in discomfort. "Because that sounds really creepy to me."

"They wish no harm."

Cassandra grunted her disbelief.

"Do they know if there's someone else here?"

The rift pulsed again, pushing the water into swirling pools of red and black and green all spinning and dancing around one another. It hummed and sang even louder than before. The glow reflected off the blackened trees, leaked into the water and the mist, made it hard to tell exactly how close they were. Far enough away yet to not attract the attentions of those on the other side, at the very least.

"They do. However they refuse to disclose a location."

"I thought you could get spirits to do anything," Cassandra scoffed. Annoyance at the situation hid any trace of possible teasing.

Aroren almost laughed at the sound of air rushing out of Solas' nose. "Spirits cannot be forced. I can convince them and ask of favors, but if they are bound to someone then there is little that can be done right now."

"So someone in here might be binding spirits?" Aroren wished that she hadn't said it even as the words left her lips.

"Wonderful," Bull said too plainly to not be sarcastic.

Expect the worst. Aroren knew that much from her mercenary days. What she didn't know was what 'the worst' could be. Each day brought new and terrible experiences which toppled her previous iteration of what 'the worst' was. At some point, she knew, she would find true worst. The worst thing possible. She would definitely be the one to discover it, if her current progression of finding worse and worse things was any indication.

"Focus on the rift for now," Cassandra said. "If this mystery swamp goer presents themselves as a threat before it is dealt with, that is when we will deal with them. Otherwise they are a secondary priority."

One thing at a time. Good. Yes. That made it less worse. Aroren took a deep, calming breath and did her best not to choke on the resulting putrid scent. "They might not even show up at all. Maybe they just want to be left alone and not seen and we can get in and out without disturbing one another."

"If they're binding spirits, it might not be a good idea to let them keep doing that. They could be aiming for a demon or something. The village could be in danger."

"I agree. Whatever is going on here should be looked into, at least."

Aroren silently looked to Cassandra, who nodded at her slowly in return. Moonlight flashed over her cheekbones. "Yes. After the rift."

Which, at the rate they were going would be several years from now, Aroren almost said out loud. Only the thought of them needing more positivity than sarcasm at the moment stilled her tongue. She also had to fight back the urge to assure everyone that everything would work out fine. She searched for a statement not proven to bring disaster. "Someday we'll laugh about this," seemed the most harmless in comparison with everything else she thought of.

The force with which Cassandra rolled her eyes had its own wind. Solas groaned. Bull laughed in a manner which made her believe he thought she was joking.

She sighed and turned her thoughts to how they were going to fight while bogged down so. As long as her smoke bombs stayed dry enough to use she wasn't too worried about herself. Vanishing into the mist and moving with the chaos of the water would be easy enough. Bull was big enough and strong enough to not need to worry so much about the pulling mud. On good footing, Aroren found herself hardly even thinking of her teammates. She just focused on those separated from the other enemies and diverting attention from Vivienne or Solas when needed. Cassandra didn't need her worry. Nor did she want it. She was a seasoned warrior who could hold her own better than any one of them there now. But Cassandra was also knee deep in mud and had a battle style reliant on being able to move her feet readily and swiftly.

Lights flashed in the distance, red and gold like the torchlight of a search party, vanishing in and out from behind the rafters and posts of what was either once a larger structure or a more densely populated part of the former town. The rift, closer now, close enough to see the rivulets of energy seeping from it, twitched. It pulled in on itself for a moment, and then outward again with racing tendrils and enough force to blow the water out from under it. The surrounding water bubbled and boiled and glowed greenish black before bursting into a half dozen shades and a pair of despair demons.

Bull charged first, before the creatures had time to realize where they were, cleaving the first of the despair demons into one of the shades. Cassandra smashed a shade with her shield and ran another through with her sword. Aroren longed for a change of terrain as she circled around, loosing arrow after arrow at the second despair demon. She cast an eye toward the decrepit skeleton of a house to her left. Better footing? Maybe not. Did the possible reward outweigh the possible risk?

As though in answer, the blue glow of a barrier burned around her and a pair of fireballs incinerated a shade at her back. The house crumbled into nothing.

“How is your wrist holding up?” came what might have been a sarcastic question from the direction the fireballs were from.

She spotted a shade turn to the sound of Solas’ voice and nailed it through the eyes. “I’m not a child!”

She didn’t understand most of what he said in reply, but she was fairly certain that _da’len_ did, in fact, mean child.

Cassandra hit the hilt of her sword against her shield, grabbing their attention. The rift twisted and turned on itself as though in agreement with her. “We aren’t done here.” She swiped the shades’ blood from her face, displaying brows furrowed in annoyance.

Aroren nodded, grinning in apology, and grabbed a smoke bomb from her belt and squeezed it. The rift surged a second time. She broke the bomb against her bracer and rolled into the mist. With another burst of blinding light, the rift’s energy split the sky and the water and the huge shadows of a pair of pride demons began to form.

Dirty water splashed over her face as the giant shapes solidified and crashed to the ground. Their guttural laughs echoed through the air and shook the trees. Cassandra cursed them both. Bull matched their laugh. They each set upon one, Bull swinging his ax and his whole body in circles, Cassandra standing steadfast with her shield raised and stance wide and low.

Aroren traced a path of arrows up the back of the one Cassandra chose. It laughed again, as though it knew something she didn't. Electricity crackled through its hand and out in the shape of a whip. For a breath, Aroren feared it shocking them all through the water. The electricity seemed to die as the whip hit the surface, water rippling and flying away, but otherwise uncharged. She would have sighed in relief had the blow not broken against Cassandra's shield.

The Seeker lost her footing. Or she would have, Aroren realized, had she not sunk so far into the muck that she couldn't move at all.

So that was what the demon was laughing about.

She released an arrow into its weapon hand and another into its shoulder. A third aimed at its neck. The demon shook them off like nothing as it raised its hand again. Cassandra raised her sword alongside the shattered remains of her shield.

Aroren desperately wished to call out to her. Or to someone. She didn't dare take her eyes from the demon to see how Bull and Solas were faring against the other. She yelled in frustration, or to gain its attention, or _something_ , and sent another flurry toward its arm. Damn the camp, the thought burned through her, they needed Blackwall here more. The camp would be fine and she was a damn foolish idiot to think anyone or anything would attack it.

When did she get to Cassandra's side? She didn't know for certain but if the string of curses was any indication, the Seeker was pissed about it. An arrow tore up into the demon's throat. Its laugh sounded no different.

The whip crashed down again with a deafening thunder crack.

Aroren couldn't recall shutting her eyes, but she recalled not seeing the rush of flames. The thrum of a barrier surrounded the pair. As the demon turned to ash and fell into nothing, she realised her chest burned from holding in her breath. She turned to thank Solas, all but prepared to pull him into a tight hug, when she realised he wasn't even facing them.

The rift shrank and trembled.

Bull too, she saw, had his attention on the trees just beyond the glow. "Close it, Boss," he said in as close to a whisper as he could, his eyes flicking to her when he realised she was staring, but remaining motionless as possible otherwise. His ax sat light in his grip, raised and ready.

She held her hand out to the green sliver. Energy burned, through her, around her. No matter how many times she closed a rift, every time she thought she was prepared for the pain, each one hurt worse than the one before it. Some of them she thought would decide they weren't so closed after all and release another medley of enemies onto her.

But it closed with little ceremony, as they so often did. She noticed the flames lingering atop the water once it was gone. She noticed the shadow beyond right after.

Small, humanoid other than the twisted set of horns rising up like branches. A lantern sat, cold and unlit, on the end of a staff. A face, owlishly round but beset with too many narrow eyes, sat bone white over black feathers which fell and fell and fell in ripples and waves to the surface of the water.

"Is that a spirit?" Cassandra's knuckles turned white against the hilt of her sword.

"No."

A leg flashed from the shadow of the cloak, bare and unnervingly clean. The stranger stepped forward easily. The water seemed to turn to ground under their bare feet as they moved. "Who are you?" A voice low and clear.

Aroren would have matched the step forward if she didn't think she would make a fool of herself in the process. She settled instead for straightening her back and puffing out her chest and setting her brows in a pair of determined white lines. "I am the Herald of Andraste," she began as though she believed it - repeating it so many times was getting to be making it easier - and gestured to the others. "We're the Inquisition."

"But who are _you_?" Another step forward. Cassandra and Bull leaned into their weapons, making visibly clear their distrust. The owl face tilted. "You who repairs the holes in the dress of the sky. Who are you?"

"My name you mean?" She faltered a bit, glancing at Cassandra for advice. That was not a question she was used to. Not knowledge anyone cared for. Was her name still hers enough that she could give it out freely as she pleased? No one had told her not to. Cassandra didn't take her eyes from the stranger and offered no words. "I am Aroren. These are my friends." She shouldered her bow, moving slowly, making her intent to end this peacefully as loud as possible. "Who are you?"

The question was supposed to sound friendly. Her voice may have trembled a bit too much.

"Does it matter?"

"Does _my_ name matter?"

A laugh, especially one so silver and light, was not the response she expected. "I suppose you're right. I am Fhel."

"Were you the one who saved me? Saved us?"

"You refer to the barrier, yes? And the fire? Yes, those were my doing."

Aroren beamed. "Thank you."

"You are welcome."

"Um...If I can ask something? What is it that you're doing out here?"

The stranger - Fhel - half turned away. The mask faced upward, toward the sky and the Breach. "Researching. I'm sure you've noticed how supple the Veil is here. When that," she pointed to the Breach, "appeared it made this place even more echoic. And then that smaller one tore open. Dangerous, risky business to stay I suppose. But my curiosity overshadowed my doubts. It would seem my decision to stay was a rather fortuitous one, after all."

"You decided to study the rift? Even while it was coughing demons out at you?" Bull gave a half-hearted chuckle as he shook his head. "I can't figure if that makes you brave or crazy."

"What exactly were you studying here before?" Cassandra asked, quirking a brow.

"Magic, of course,” she said with a short laugh as though the answer should have been obvious. “There's little physical evidence left, but this area is rife with unusual spells and experimental magicks. I was hoping to be able to piece something together from it all. I started keeping notes, but that - what did you call it? A rift? - was so much easier to...not figure out, but, you know. It was more there. It was easier to document."

The group was silent in their contemplation. Aroren turned to Solas, who had spent the exchange staring wordlessly at the stranger with narrowed eyes, to ask what the next best course of action would be. Could her information be useful? Was she a threat? What about those possible bindings?

Before she could ask, Fhel gasped suddenly and placed her hands on either side of the mask. “Oh! I’ve been rather inhospitable, haven’t I? Would any of you care for tea?” She pulled the mask off and set it upon her hip. 

"Um." Aroren considered the offer as she considered the face. Elven, wide cheekbones, strong jawline. Lips painted the same deep red as the pair of scars running over her right temple, one down to her brow the other to her nose. Nothing in her expression betrayed ill intent, but it did make Aroren suddenly painfully aware of her own confused expression. She glanced at Cassandra, who shrugged, brows furrowed and lips pulled thin, and then at Bull.

Bull shrugged as well when he saw her wide-eyed stare, but it was less in confusion and more in resignation. He holstered the ax and crossed his arms. "Up to you, Boss."

No warning. A good sign, she decided.

"We would love tea. Thank you."

Fhel's eyes widened, as though she hadn't expected the offer to be taken up in seriousness. She smiled regardless, an act which made her eyes light up. "Wonderful! Follow me, if you will."

She tapped the staff on the ground as she turned. A brilliant blue flame erupted within the lantern and in several, seemingly random places among the trees.

Aroren motioned Bull to follow Fhel while she helped Cassandra pull herself from the mud with little more trouble. She brushed herself off, looking only a little embarrassed and a lot annoyed. "You shouldn't have done what you did. It was risky and dangerous and pointless of you."

"What was? Getting us invited to tea?" Aroren tried to feign ignorance with a smirk. When Cassandra only glared at her and made a disgusted noise in response, she laughed. "Well I couldn't just do nothing."

"You would have died alongside me had this woman not intervened."

"But she did intervene. And even if she hadn't Bull or Solas would have done something."

"Even so," Solas fell into step with them, "you need to stop taking such risks."

"Can I at least finish one lecture before getting another?" She rolled her eyes. "Everything turned out fine anyway. With the tree and with the demons." To prove her point she thrust her wrist out to show how well it had been healed. To disprove her point, the bruising had returned. She quickly withdrew it without another word.

“We know nothing about this woman." Cassandra said, turning her gaze to Fhel and Bull.

A fair point which Aroren was loath to admit at the moment. She watched the flickering lights floating above the water and noted they were all just in front of the scattered homes, about where the doors would have once been. "You didn't know anything about me when we first met, either."

"I knew that we thought you a murderer and I treated you with the same suspicion."

"You were willing to trust me regardless of that. And all we know about her is that she _saved our lives_."

"Your naivete will be the death of me," Cassandra sighed, defeated.

The structure Fhel led them to sat atop the water. It leaned against the nearest trees, the wood of the former home and the wood of the living forest mixing and blending too neatly together to see where one ended and the other began. How it stayed together, the roof held up with nothing more than faith it seemed, Aroren couldn’t tell.

“Watch your step,” the elven woman said, sweeping in as she held open the curtain door. "I sank into the swamp three times before perfecting the spell to hold this place together and I'd rather prefer not to make it four."

The floor creaked and groaned and sagged under their feet as they filed in. Shadows cracked along the broken walls, the rot from rafter to foundation turning everything darker than it should have been.

A flourish of her hands brought red flames to life. Candles atop a table in the middle of the room illuminated a pile of leather bound books and quills. A kettle spat smoke from a stove more rust than metal. She swirled to face them, graceful as a noble housewife trying to make a good first impression of their lakeside manor.

Bull stood by the window, hunched over to avoid shattering the roof. The silhouette of his horns flashed in the moonlight. Aroren watched his eye flick across the room, meeting Cassandra's equally searching gaze every so often. They seemed unsure of what exactly to be on the lookout for. Jars of plants and dirt and crystals lined the shelves. Parchment of various sizes, some blank and some covered in elaborate diagrams of the rift or a demon or spirit, were pinned to the walls or laid out and weighted down on the table and floor.

The doors of a cabinet squealed as it opened and clattered to the floor.

Fhel looked at it with a resigned sigh. "Not many usable cups in here either." A puff of dust and the crashing of earthenware punctuated her muttering.

"How long have you been here?" Aroren asked. “Did you come because of the Breach or because of the place itself?”

Ah," she withdrew from the cabinet with a mismatched, cracked set of five mugs and placed them on the table. “A bit of both, I suppose. I’ve known about this place for years but it was the appearance of your _Breach_ –“ the word held a strange sound against her tongue “–which convinced me to travel. Here, it’s spindleweed and dawn lotus, good for keeping the immune system strong in a place like this.” She handed the first mug to Aroren. “It should also help with that wrist.”

Cassandra held hers with the tips of her fingers and sniffed the steam. Bull held his like a lover’s hand. Solas apparently made himself right at home, appearing on the other side of the table before Aroren realized he left her side.

He declined the offered mug and instead pointed at the nearest notebook. "May I?"

Fhel quirked a brow but gave a small nod and a smile. "Feel free. I do apologize if the notes aren't very coherent." She placed the rejected mug on the remains of the windowsill and tapped the rim lovingly, as though expecting someone else to come along for it.

Aroren couldn't help but look over his shoulder at the contents even as the pages skipped by too quickly for her to take them in fully. Sketches of demons, diagrams of the rift, pages upon pages filled top to bottom with writing too tiny to make out, circles, sigils, runes. "Are they all like that?" she asked, amazed.

"Most of them." A half-shrug and a glance at the ground, but the way her smile pursed her lips gave away the pride she tried to hide.

"You're very thorough. These observations are more detailed than most." Solas' voice betrayed no emotion. He turned through the pages a second time, slower.

"That's probably because most get killed when keeping this close to a rift." Cassandra took tender sips of her tea, only after Fhel had done so first. It was bitter but not deadly. "How have you managed to survive here this long?"

"Determination," she replied with a short laugh. "Dispelling and wards, mostly. Some well-hidden mine runes made it easy to pick off whatever slipped through and keeping my base at a distance helped keep activity from spiking too much."

"Good strategy." Bull sounded impressed. He raised his empty mug at Aroren as though offering a toast. "I like her. She manages to make spindleweed not taste like ass. Still bad, but not ass."

"The dawn lotus helps. If I had more ingredients here too then..." she shrugged and chuckled. "Ah, well."

"So how thorough is the information in here?" Aroren leaned down to try to read one of the pages, but it appeared to be in elven. Or something masquerading as elven. "Could the Inquisition use it?"

“What did we _just_ discuss about taking risks?” The words hissed through Solas’ teeth.

Cassandra grabbed her arm and yanked her backward. "Aroren, what are you suggesting?"

"I don't have any sort of Circle credentials." Fhel grabbed the notebook back and slammed it closed. She dropped it to the top of the stack at her feet. "And I would hear an offer for payment, at the very least, before hearing you discuss using anything of mine."

"Oh no, I wasn't trying to insinuate using it without you!" Aroren's brow furrowed upward. "If anything, we'd be using you more."

A veritable chorus. "What."

"I mean!" She groaned and smacked her hands to her face. "Would you like to come to Haven with us and share your findings? We have plenty of room and more than just spindleweed and dawn lotus for making tea."

Bull put a hand on Cassandra's shoulder when she looked ready to wrestle Aroren to the ground to get her to stop talking.

"Haven?" Fhel said the name slowly, almost singing it. The ghost of a smile crossed her lips. "It sounds lovely."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my self-indulgent garbage. <3 I might post more about Aroren and friends some time. Maybe you'll get to see her have an actual introduction or something. Or a continuation of this. There's a couple ideas for little things knocking around so who even knows.


End file.
